Picture of Perfection

TYLER

Four days of familial bliss have passed. I’ve nearly forgotten the confrontation with Sophie. But then Friday morning arrives. It’s the day before Ella’s two-week birthday. The day we’ve planned for her newborn photoshoot.

I receive a text from my mom. Sophie wants to set up a visitation for Tilly and me at her place tomorrow. I decide to ignore my mom’s message, not wanting to dampen the cheerful atmosphere before Ella’s photoshoot. I don’t want any negativity to taint the pictures.

I’m not sure I’ve managed to keep my poker face, though. But no one has mentioned me seeming off, so maybe I’ve pulled it off. I keep the text a secret all morning, allowing everyone else to remain blissfully unaware of Sophie’s plans to assert Tilly as my child.

There’s no way that Tilly is mine. Jerry has cautioned me to tread lightly. DNA results can be doctored, and he wouldn’t put it past Sophie. If she can somehow prove I’m the biological father, she could demand child support, housing allowance, and even enforce visitation rights. It seems she’s already started on the last one.

At least Jerry believes me when I say I never saw Sophie in March last year. He hasn’t doubted me once. Neither has Carla. But Zach and my own mother? That’s a different story. I can understand Zach’s skepticism, but my mother? I can’t comprehend her.

I’ve been avoiding her, so we haven’t talked about it yet. I know it’s not fair to Violet and Ella to have this tension looming over us every time we see my mom. I’ll have to talk to her later.

“Would you like to see the maternity photos? I finished editing them a few days ago,” Mora asks. Ella has been lying on a peculiar circular frame with fabric stretched around it, but it seems Mora is done with her photoshoot.

“Yes, please,” Violet responds, her face lighting up with a huge smile. She’s been in high spirits since deciding that Callum or I can bottle-feed Ella during the night so she can get some sleep. Zach seems more than happy to lazily nurse from her whenever that happens, switching from one breast to the other before contentedly drifting back to sleep.

Zach and Callum are both peculiar about that. They’ve both been happily nursing from her all the time. Maybe it’s because I was never breastfed, or maybe it’s because that milk is meant for Ella. Or maybe it’s just because I despise milk in general, but I just can’t stand the taste or texture in my mouth.

“Do you have an HDMI cable I can use to connect my laptop to the TV?” Mora asks. Zach retrieves one from a kitchen drawer I didn’t know existed and hands it to her. She sets up a slideshow of photos.

Violet is already sitting with Ella nursing from her right breast, using a pillow for support. She’s attaching a silicone pump to her other breast as the first pictures appear on the TV.

The first few photos show her in a white dress in the meadows at Carla and Jerry’s place. Her hair is swept back by the wind, revealing her beautiful face. Her complexion is flawless, her eyes are accentuated with black makeup, and her lips are a dark shade of pink. The picture is the epitome of perfection.

Violet gasps, and we all turn to her, worried that something has happened. But she’s just staring at the TV. “I felt like a whale, but I didn’t look like one,” she says, noticing our stares and starting to swallow nervously.

“I told you so, didn’t I?” Callum leans back, draping an arm around her with a smile on his lips. This was a daily argument for him. Violet constantly complained about feeling large and round, but in reality, her bump was small and perfectly baby-shaped.

“Yes, you did,” she admits, tapping his leg. The slideshow continues, cycling through various photos of her and us until we finally see the ones with Black.

I was so angry that day when Zach decided to bring Black. The first photo shows Zach and Violet greeting the horse. From the angle the photo was taken, her bump is barely visible, but Zach’s hand is resting on it, drawing attention to her pregnancy.

The photos continue, showing the three of us huddled together while Zach is in the background, one hand on Black’s mane. His full dimpled smile is like a beacon behind Violet. Callum and I are having a heated discussion, but from the photo, you’d never guess we were arguing. It just looks like the three of us are admiring her baby bump. Callum and I both have a hand on her stomach. The photo is special, capturing a moment other than the argument we were having.

I’m starting to look forward to the picture of her on Black. Even though I still don’t agree with the risk they took with Ella that day, I can’t deny that Violet looked good on him.

Finally, the picture appears. The background has been edited from a clear blue sky to one scattered with clouds. Violet’s hair is so vibrant that I can’t believe it’s her natural color, but when I glance back at her, I realize I might be wrong.

She’s sitting side-saddle on Black while Zach is petting his head, his dimple prominently displayed as he looks at her. Her hair is flowing behind her, carried by the wind. The dress covers her breasts and splits on either side of her bare bump before trailing down the side of Black. She’s looking up at the sky, her lips slightly parted and her eyes closed, her jawline prominent. Mora pauses the slideshow as we all stare at the screen.

“I want to use this picture on my website and portfolio,” she says after a long silence. I’m still angry about that day, but looking at the photo, I understand why Zach wanted it.

Her skin is so pale that it nearly matches the color of her dress. The deep black of Black’s coat underneath her contrasts with the green of the meadow and the red of her hair. I never imagined the picture would turn out this stunningly beautiful.

I want it enlarged so I can see it every day and remind myself of how lucky I am to have Violet. How lucky we all are.

Mora resumes the slideshow. The next picture shows Violet and Zach in the same positions, but now Callum and I are standing in front of Violet, both reaching up to her. Our backs are to the camera, but all five of us are there. Our family.

“Damn, I hate that you were right,” Callum admits, hitting Zach’s arm on the other side of Violet.

“I told you so,” Zach retorts playfully, the know-it-all that he is.

“These are some of the best shots I’ve taken in my ten-year career,” Mora says nonchalantly. I haven’t seen her portfolio, but if this was the image she showed me before we hired her, I would have hired her on the spot.

“I want it enlarged,” I say, nodding at the image of the four of us. Mora smiles.

“I can arrange that. I work with a company that does high-quality prints and canvases,” she replies cheerfully.

The images keep coming. One of my favorites is a candid shot I didn’t know she took. It’s the four of us. Violet is holding mine and Callum’s hands while I hold Zach’s. We’re walking back toward the house, Violet’s dress and hair billowing behind her. You can’t see her bump, and you wouldn’t immediately guess that the photo was from a maternity shoot, but it’s a photo of the four of us. Something I didn’t know I wanted until I had it.

I’m biting my lip, trying not to ask her to print the entire catalogue of images as we get to the bath photos. I saw a Pinterest post about maternity milk bath photos, which gave me the idea of wanting some of Violet in a milk bath. Again, I was right.

The first photo shows Violet in the claw-foot tub. Her hair is dry and hanging over the end of the tub. Her head is tilted back, her lips are slightly parted, and her eyes are closed. You can barely see her breasts or her swollen stomach, but they’re there, just beyond the edge of the tub. The photo is stunning.

“I like that one,” Violet says as the images continue to roll. Her hair eventually enters the bath with her, floating beside her stomach. Flowers float in the milky water around her stomach.

By the time the two-hundred-photo slideshow is finished, I know that there isn’t a single one I wouldn’t buy. But thankfully, we live in the age of digital photos, otherwise, we’d have more photos than we have walls to hang them on.

“We’ll take all of them. We’ll go digital, of course,” I assure Mora before anyone else can voice their opinion.

Zach’s smirk tells me he’d already made up his mind about it too.

“I’m so excited to see Ella’s photos now,” Violet chimes in, removing the odd silicone bottle from her chest. It’s filled to the brim, almost overflowing.

“Need help bagging that?” Catherine suddenly appears from behind the couch, her face lit up with a huge grin.

“Thanks, Catherine.” She’s already in the kitchen, opening a milk bag and pouring the milk into it.

I watch in awe as she seals it tightly, leaving no air inside, labels it, and then places it in the fridge behind the others.

“Mora, thank you so much. These photos are incredible, and I didn’t even know I wanted them,” Violet says, reaching out to grasp Mora’s hand.

“That’s what most mothers say. I’m just glad you guys chose me to take them.”